<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>robots don't have hearts by mackdizzy</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26163265">robots don't have hearts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mackdizzy/pseuds/mackdizzy'>mackdizzy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Hope's Peak Academy (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - No Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Rated T for some adult content and language, i mean theyre still ultimates but, yeah.</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 02:35:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,860</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26163265</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mackdizzy/pseuds/mackdizzy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lines and code, that which he is made of, know variables better than any human might ever. And a class full of fifteen humans has a lot of control to cover, when one is learning how to be human.</p><p>So he will ask all of them.</p><p>[K1-B0's quest for fulfillment on one otherwise ordinary school day. It doesn't go quite as he planned.]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iruma Miu &amp; K1-B0, K1-B0 &amp; Oma Kokichi, K1-B0 &amp; Saihara Shuichi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>robots don't have hearts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/discodancing/gifts">discodancing</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>so here's what I've learned; I'll only write fics outside of my 2-fandom-comfort-zone if they're birthday gifts, but I'll write the hell out of them anyway.</p><p>K1-B0 centric, though other characters have parts to play. Non-Killing-Game AU; they're just students at Hope's Peak. But they retain their in-game personalities, because I didn't want to make up random new ones; contains inklings of Shuichi's pre-game persona, though, as well as a few Easter Eggs from other games, the DR3 anime, etc. </p><p>Happy birthday, Reyrey! Hope it's an awesome one.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He’s been spending more time with Shuichi lately. Maybe this is because of an innate thirst for knowledge, the strong desire to </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>when he cannot </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Maybe this is simply because Shuichi is good, kind company, and he appreciates that. Either way, when Shuichi invites him down to the library, he can’t help but accept. Shuichi has a rather...</span>
  <em>
    <span>eccentric </span>
  </em>
  <span>taste in books, though, a penchant for serial murders, and K1-B0 drifts, briefly, and whether he went there on pure instinct, or some act of fate, or his marched him there himself, he ends up in the section of human biology, and he starts reading.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>K1-B0 finds every book he picks up to be largely unsatisfying. They give him straight facts, things he could easily render by searching through a database. What he needs, he comes to learn only as he rifles through the pages, is something </span>
  <em>
    <span>instructional. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Something that a book, on its own, cannot give him. Lines and code, that which he is made of, know variables better than any human might ever. And a class full of</span>
  <em>
    <span> fifteen</span>
  </em>
  <span> humans has a lot of control to cover, when one is learning how to </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span> human.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> So he will ask all of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shuichi is right there in the library, though K1-B0 can’t help but take note of how loud the chair is when it scrapes against the hardwood floor. The air is thick with trepidation, and reeks of death in a way he’s not quite able to place. “Oh, hey.” Shuichi looks up from his book about Genocide Jack and waves, and K1-B0 cuts straight to the chase.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How would one go about being a human?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...What?” Shuichi laughs, one of his timid little ones that might have sounded mean if it wasn’t Shuichi, and sets the book down with one dog-eared corner, folding his hands on top of it. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Being a--</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He shakes his head, aimlessly. “You’re not a human, Keebo, I don’t think it’s as easy as reading a how-to book.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know. That’s why I asked you instead.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah…” Shuichi mumbles, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t think I’m the best person to ask. I’m not very--</span>
  <em>
    <span>in-tune </span>
  </em>
  <span>to what makes a human a human, I suppose?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you study dead bodies?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shuichi laughs again at that, and it’s much lighter, much more upbeat than any of his previous laughs. “Yeah, but that’s--blood, and organs, and stuff, I don’t think that’s what you’re looking for. You need a humanitarian.” His eyes widen. “Oh, man! Go talk to Korekiyo, dude! He knows all about this sort of shit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I only have one lunch break. Do you know where I might find him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eh--” Shuichi waves a hand in the air aimlessly. “Probably in his research lab, he’s always cooped up in there. If you don’t find him, you may find someone else, right? Good a place as any to check.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>K1-B0 </span>
  <em>
    <span>does </span>
  </em>
  <span>end up finding Korekiyo in his research lab, though it takes a few very impertinent knocks on the door to get him to even answer. And Korekiyo looks </span>
  <em>
    <span>surprised </span>
  </em>
  <span>to see him, if surprised is even the right word for the way his eyes widen above his mask and he presses himself against the doorway, and the way the silence between them stretches for about 8 seconds too long before the humanitarian in question finally speaks a “....Yesss?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>K1-B0’s foot taps impatiently against the floor. “I’m here to learn how to be a human.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well I would say that you’ve come to the right place, young robot, but I’m a scholar, hardly a teacher.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...Please?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Korekiyo concedes, finally, and lets him in. He flips on the lights behind his eyes, casting beams through the dust </span>
  <em>
    <span>How does Korekiyo even </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> in here? </span>
  </em>
  <span>And lets Korekiyo lead him around his lab, discussing; only it’s less of an engaging discussion about the manners of humanity and more Korekiyo liking the sound of his own voice, and K1-B0 ends it all feeling wildly unsatisfied, and not to mention, his lunch break is almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>over. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It might feel sort of okay, he decides, to go tell Shuichi how much of a </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead-end </span>
  </em>
  <span>that was, and he wonders for a moment if being disgruntled is part of being human, or just a part of being </span>
  <em>
    <span>him, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but he’s torn out of his thoughts when he runs--head-first, of course--into the ultimate inventor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gah!” Miu shouts, dropping a wrench that would’ve done a number against his skull if it wasn’t made of metal. “Watch where you’re fuckin’ walking, Keebs! I’ve got things to do!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What things? Our lunch break is almost over, Miu.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Miu rolls her eyes towards the ceiling. “Does </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone </span>
  </em>
  <span>actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>go </span>
  </em>
  <span>to study hall?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” K1-B0’s nose-featurette crinkles. “I go to study hall.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shuichi told me you were interested in bein’ more human.” Miu enunciates, picking the wrench off the floor and pointing it square at his face. He goes to interject on this breach of perfectly good privacy, but something holds him back; the very human emotion, perhaps, of sheer, unadulterated curiosity. “I’ll teach you everythin’ you need to know. Skip study hall, chill in here with me.” She points to her own lab, one gloved-thumb pointing aggressively.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>K1-B0 considers this option. Any missed class time could be </span>
  <em>
    <span>detrimental </span>
  </em>
  <span>to his grade, but then again, there is perhaps nothing less human than numbers on a page, and perhaps nothing more human than playing hooky. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There is something claustrophobic about Miu’s lab, the amount of floor-to-ceiling machines that K1-B0 can barely squeeze through; or maybe it is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Miu </span>
  </em>
  <span>that is claustrophobic, constantly shoving her shoulder against his as if it doesn’t hurt, waving tools in his face, wrinkling her nose and shouting profanity, things that K1-B0 can’t help but admire, if for nothing more than they’re so very human.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y’know, I could probably make some adjustments to your anatomy, if you really want.” She drawls after a moment or so, acrylic nails tapping on the workbench. “Give you a more--I dunno, a heart that beats, or a wrinkly brain, or a dick--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miu!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m joking.” She guffaws, kicking him under the bench. “I mean--I’m still willing, but--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to be late for fourth period.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>K1-B0 isn’t entirely sure what he learned from that. Maybe that being human isn’t as appetizing as he originally thought, but once Keebo got a goal on the brain, he did very little else until he felt it was at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>somewhat </span>
  </em>
  <span>accomplished. So there he stands, impatiently, outside of fourth period arithmetics, waiting for someone to open the door, because he has had it up to </span>
  <em>
    <span>here </span>
  </em>
  <span>with going in these constant humanitarian circ--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe you wouldn’t let her give you a dick!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stares down Kokichi Ouma with a glare that’s sharp enough to melt titanium, and he doesn’t even need to mean that literally, right now. “Word travels fast.” He huffs, crossing his arms across his chest and shoving the prankster maybe a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>hard (he flops to the side like a ragdoll) as he makes his way in and sits down in the front row. He’s expecting Kokichi to go sit in the back where he can spit paper balls at the back of Shuichi’s neck all day, but is horrified when the Ultimate Supreme leader sits not just near his desk, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>on </span>
  </em>
  <span>it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you think Miss Yukizome will allow any sort of that--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s out sick today, remember?” Kokcihi’s legs swing, and one hits him square in the chest. “Sub won’t care if I sit on your desk.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kokichi turns out to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>infuriatingly </span>
  </em>
  <span>right, for a reason he can’t even comprehend, and he lies on top of his desk on his stomach and pretends to work on the desk opposite, in a way that prevents K1-B0 from doing much work at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As long as you are going to continue to distract me, Kokichi, may I ask you a question?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go for it.” Kokichi tuts, shaking the ink out of his pen onto K1-B0’s desk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s just--all day I’ve been trying to figure it out. How does one go about being human?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kokichi swivels, sitting criss-cross applesauce facing him, now, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Now where’d you go and get a silly little idea like that, Kee-boy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t call me Kee-boy. It’s just something I’ve been wondering, today. Forget it--it’s stupid.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’d say so!” Kokichi laughs, garish and harsh, kicking him in the chest much more purposefully this time. “I thought you were way too prideful for that. Wah, wah, I’m a </span>
  <em>
    <span>robot, </span>
  </em>
  <span>you’re just </span>
  <em>
    <span>humans--”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When do I ever talk like that?” K1-B0 huffs, and he can feel his cheeks getting red, somehow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay! You got me there! I made it up.” Kokichi sticks out his tongue. “But I’m sure you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinkin </span>
  </em>
  <span>it, all the time--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know me!” He shouts, suddenly, slamming his hands onto the desk. Anger bubbles in his chest, vicious and fiery and hot, and it makes his gears turn, quite literally. “Nobody knows me, nobody knows what it’s like to be the only person that doesn’t fit in, especially not you! All you do is lie and manipulate your way into spaces, you will never know how I </span>
  <em>
    <span>think </span>
  </em>
  <span>and you will </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>know how it feels to be in none at all!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kokichi looks shocked at his outburst, genuinely shocked, for about three seconds, and then a grin so wide it barely looks human stretches across his face. “Ta-da! There we have it! Human anger! Tried and true! That’s the most human you’ve ever been, I think, Kee-boy!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was too shocked, now, to even correct Kokichi’s pronunciation. There were eyes on him, almost all of them, and he shoved his way past Kokichi, straight out the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank me later, then!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shuichi found him again, sitting curled up outside the Arithmetic room. “Didn’t...go so well?” He asked, and K1-B0 would’ve brushed him off if he didn’t know how much he cared, so instead he just shook his head, staring straight at the wall. He could feel his eyes short-circuiting. “It’s the end of the day, and I’ve barely spoken to anyone. I’ve gathered no data. I don’t know what it’s like to be human, not at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I disagree!” Shuichi said suddenly, like it was some great epiphany, sitting down next to him. “How much have you felt today, K1-B0? Really truly?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I--a lot, I guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s what it’s all about!” Shuichi exclaimed, tapping him twice on the chest, not entirely where his core processor was but a little bit to its right. “What goes on in here, y’know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>K1-B0 tries to move his hand, but Shuichi moves it back. “Not in there, silly. In here. In your heart.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Robots don’t have hearts.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, Miu can build you </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>organ, then.” Shuichi mumbles, his face going red as he leans down to help K1-B0 up. “And then you’ll be all set. You don’t need to go looking, Keebs. You’ve got it all right where it counts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>